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Annie
Finch: That's an interesting connection, since Eliot was certainly
a strong early influence on me. When I wrote "The Last Mermother,"
the mermaid had already been a resonant symbol for me for quite
some time, and I had written a verse play called "The Mermaid
Tragedy" (which, incidentally, may soon be performed for the
first time as a puppet theater performance). When I wrote "The
Last Mermother," I recall that I was fascinated by a wooden
sculpture of a mermaid with a skull for a face that I had seen in
Mexico. I felt compelled to explore the more threatening side
of the mermaid imagery, which I associated with a dangerously powerful
powerlessness. After it was done, I realized that I had written
a poem about the relation between mothers and daughters, and the
way mothers who have had to repress their own ambitions can haunt
their children perpetually.
"The
Last Mermother" was also a breakthrough because it was one
of my first narrative poems, and it set the stage for my long narrative
"Marie Moving," which I began soon afterwards.
R.
S. Gwynn: Among the new poems you have in this issue are
three sonnets you've translated from the work of Louise Labé (1520-1566).
What drew you to her work? Have you done other translations
of formal poems, and did you encounter any special challenges here?
Annie
Finch: Well, I was drawn to Labé
several times over. At first, I was drawn to her charm and passion
and humor. Labé is a legendary figure in French poetry, as famous
for her skill in jousting as for her love affairs, and a brilliant
and beloved poet. I translated her complete poetry, which consists
of three very witty satirical "elegies" on love in couplets, and
25 sonnets. The sonnets are passionate and include love laments,
take-offs on Petrarchan conceits, seduction poems, and an amusing
sonnet on impotence. My new book of poems, Calendars, is
more grounded in the body than Eve, and I attribute that
in part to my having done the Labé translations.
Also,
when I started the Labé project, I had been so aware of meter and
trying out different meters for such a long time that I had almost
forgotten about rhyme, and I was ready for a challenge in that direction,
which Labé offered: previous translators did not translate her
sonnets according to their original rhyme schemes. Though they
are all Italian sonnets, they have been translated only into English
sonnets and into free verse.
I
determined to translate each sonnet according to the rhyme pattern
that Labé herself had developed for it. She used quite a variety
of rhyme schemes; one of her sonnets rhymes 8 words on a single
sound. There were several times as I was working on these
poems when I thought I would have to give up, but there always turned
out to be a way through the maze. And I feel that through her rhyme
schemes, I was able to capture something about the way her mind
works that was unavailable in the other translations. The Labé
translations will be published by the University of Chicago Press
in the next few years.
I
have done a variety of other translations of formal poetry, including
some in Greek meters and a version of the old English "Seafarer"
in alliterative meter. Each form presents its own delicious
challenges. Now I am working with a Russian translator on
a poem of Akhmatova's in amphibrachic meter. I used amphibrachs
in my poem "Carol for Carolyn, " in Calendars,
and that got me interested in translating Akhmatova's poem.
At the West Chester conference this summer, Tom Cable and I and
other poets and prosodists held a seminar about noniambic meters.
Amphibrachs, which are central to Russian poetry but are here usually
considered hardly to exist, were central to that fascinating discussion.
It's a beautiful and unique meter, and worth learning how to hear.
On paper, it looks as if it could be scanned as anapests, but the
rhythm is completely different once you learn to hear it.
R.
S. Gwynn: You've answered part of my final question, about
your next book. You mentioned a narrative with an intriguing
title, "Marie Moving." What's it about? And
when can we expect to see both the poem and Calendars?
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